Remember that time… And you were there, and I wasn't there because you were in your house or where ever you read the last chapter.
Thank you Chelzie for polishing this up :D and to Sassyeverlarking and Fairmellarky for letting me whine to them while I was writing this fic.
Oh, you find out why Peeta left Katniss high and dry in this chapter…. WOO!
Katniss
A million scenarios play through my head as to why Officer Mellark had to just up and run. Was I that intolerable? Did my breath smell? Was there another woman?
The thoughts distract me from our driveway Phillies watching. During the seventh inning stretch and about my tenth cigarette since the first pitch, Gale finally speaks up. "What's eating you, Catnip?" he asks after I separate us from the rest of the station.
"Have you ever ditched a girl on a date? Like straight up, 'I have to go, can you get home from here' ditch?"
His face goes blank. "That fucking asshole," he grumbles, "I knew he was bad news."
I start picking at my nail beds. "I just don't get it, Gale. We were having a good time, at least I was." It's kind of hypocritical of me to be this upset. Usually my dates need to be near the station that way if there's a call on a night I know they're short-handed, I can bolt telling the person, 'I'll call you' with little to no intention of calling them back.
I look up at the man who is basically my brother, the guy who got me through training and doesn't mind going into burning buildings with the 'little girl'. "Gale, I actually liked this guy and I fucked it up…" I sigh, taking a long drag.
Gale firmly grips both of my shoulders. "No, he fucked it up and… he is walking up the driveway right now. Go…" Gale shoves me in the direction of the garage. I don't even want to look at Peeta. Cops frequent the fire house for reports of suspicious fires and general bullshitting and from what I've come to understand, this is part of his beat a good chunk of the time.
"Unless you got some actual business here, man, you'd better fucking leave," I hear Gale tell Peeta.
It's dark and my foot catches on a pike pole. "Shit…" I grumble, scrambling to not knock over every fucking piece of equipment in the bay.
"I just have to talk to her…" Peeta tells Gale, his voice full of desperation.
"Allow me to spell it out for you. Fuck. Off."
"Get your hands off me, man."
I know Gale's temper; it's something I avoid at all costs, so with the pike pole in hand, I exit the garage. "Gale?" I ask quietly, noticing his hand is full of Peeta's shirt. "Gale, I-I got this… Go back to watching the game," I tell him gently.
A firefighter threatening a police officer – fuck, Gale can be an idiot sometimes.
When Gale doesn't move, I get annoyed. "Now?" he looks from me, to Peeta, then back to me. Gale has seen me in worse spots… I think.
"You've got a lot of balls coming here," I tell him, passing the pike pole from one hand to the other.
"Listen, Katniss… You have to-" I cut him off by poking his vest with the blunt end of the yellow pole.
"Understand? Fuck you," I spit, "You want to come here and be apologetic for ditching me in goddamn Center City? Get over yourself," I poke him in his stomach. I actually like this man, which makes this that much harder, but I can't open the door for him to walk all over me.
Just as Peeta goes to defend himself the bell rings, a call at the 2100 block of 8th street. "But I have to go now, duty calls," I turn on my heels to run to my locker and don my gear, but he stops me.
"Katniss, wait, let me make it up to you." This time, the hooked tip of the pike pole ends up dangerously close to his face. "Wait, are you threatening an officer?"
"You cocky fuck, I'm threatening the guy who ditched me in goddamn Center City with no explanation and not even a text the next morning. Now I have a call and our response time is very important to us. Also, keeping a first responder from doing his or her job is a misdemeanor or something, so go pull someone over. I have lives to save."
When he calls after me again, I ignore him. It's two days too late. I rack the pike pole and hurry to take off my boots and pull on my bunker gear.
He's gone before we even pull out.
"You okay?" Gale asks as I zip up my coat.
"Yeah, how'd I do?" I ask, adjusting my nomex hood so there's no vulnerable spots around my neck.
"Kind of wished you'd skewer him… but…"
I roll my eyes and watch the city blocks pass by. "Jail isn't fun, from what I've heard."
"Eh, you're ugly enough to survive, plus you're mean. You'd make someone your bitch in the first hour."
I kick him from my seat across the cab as I watch heads turn. It's amazing how quickly I started tuning out the sound of a siren.
Peeta
Finnick says nothing when I get back in the cruiser. "Man, I'm so sorry…" he finally tells me as we head to the same fire as Katniss.
"It's okay…" I sigh, "You needed someone."
I have to be all business by the time we get there. As Finnick and I help set up a barricade, I notice we're not the first pair there. There's a few other guys scattered around, trying to move the gathered crowd away.
I can't help but watch Katniss work. I can barely see her face, but when she looks in my general direction, there's a look of blank determination on her face. I barely know this woman but I feel like I can read her like a book. She's on auto-pilot, performing a necessary task she's done more times than she should have.
She screws the nozzle onto a hose and checks to be sure it's closed before giving the thumbs up so the line can be charged. She hands the hose off to Hawthorne and pats his back before another person joins them… Thom, his jacket says.
I watch as her tiny form goes in and wait until I can no longer see the fluorescent yellow reflectors on her helmet before turning around. "Alright, back up," Finnick says as some kid tries to get a little closer.
Even though I've never been inside a burning building, I know when the situation is turning from bad to good. Black smoke means that the fire is still fueling itself, but when the smoke turns white, it's almost out. The entire building isn't up in flames and the structure seems sound. Not very long after going in, the small group comes out.
"Alright, shut it off!" Katniss yells, now holding the nozzle. Her voice is garbled through her mask, almost robotic. "Jesus fuck, do I have to do it myself, man?"
It's a quiet Sunday after that, nothing major. Considering the area, we're almost shocked that there are no robberies or domestics. Nothing says 'good night' like breaking up a fist fight between a man and a woman while their kids are watching.
The next few weeks are quiet for the most part, except for one thing – abandoned buildings around the city have been going up in flames and at every one of them, the firefighters have reported smelling fuel.
The Arson Task Force starts probing everything, checking reports, going back to sites. It would be a non-issue if it wasn't for the vocal task force leader, Haymitch Abernathy, bitching about the sloppiness of everyone's work.
Finnick and I try to stay as far away from that as possible. We're just patrol cops - what do we know about arson? That and I'm avoiding Engine 29 as much as I can. Unfortunately, since mine and Katniss' jurisdictions intersect and the number of calls because of the arsonist along with the craziness that the heat brings, I find myself staring at the reflective lettering on her jacket more than I care to admit. At the beginning of the week if Katniss caught me keeping a watchful eye over her, she would just give me this hateful look. Now she won't even meet my gaze; the one time she did, she just looked empty.
But I don't think I can stop watching over her. Every night since I first met her, I've had this dream where she's lost in an inferno, searching for an exit before her air runs out. I try to shake the image while I'm awake, but the second I see her heading into a burning building, that's it. I'm a nervous wreck.
I barely know this woman, and even if it's a false alarm, seeing her in her turn out gear heading anywhere sends me into a panic.
Fuck, I wish she'd just let me explain things without swinging a six foot spiked pole in my direction.
Three weeks later, the heat wave finally breaks; muggy days are followed by cool nights and crisp mornings. September is a strange time in Philadelphia. Deep in the city where next to no breeze comes across the Delaware, it's still unpleasant during the day but the second night hits, it's a cruel reminder that winter is coming very slowly.
"Windshield's fogging up again," Finnick tells me. It's about an hour before morning rush begins and we're already on highway patrol, because with the break in heat comes a break in the crime rate.
I flick on the defroster. "So, how's Annie?" I ask.
"Coming home next week. I'm nervous; they think she'll need a nurse," he sighs, "Fucking drunk drivers, man… Sun wasn't even down," Finnick says, punching the dash.
I look out the window and watch as a black Jeep comes speeding down a straight portion of the highway, "Oh, here we go…"
As the driver passes through the speed trap, we clock her going 79. "After this, I want breakfast. Or dinner, or whatever it is," Finnick tells me.
"It's six thirty, it's whatever you want it to be."
These overnight shifts are starting to get to me, but it's easier to distract myself after my nightmares if I sleep while the sun is up.
"Ten bucks says I get yelled at," I tell Finnick.
"How about you just buy me breakfast," he jokes as we get out of the cruiser.
Finnick and I both touch the back of the car - in case one of us goes down, it's an easy way to tie the driver to the incident. Either way, there is no such thing as a routine traffic stop. A 110 pound blonde girl can pull a gun without warning, just like the three hundred pound guy with gang tattoos can be the most understanding speeder in the world. The only thing I can almost guarantee is that a mini-van driven by a suburban soccer mom will bring nothing but headaches.
I tap on the glass but almost fall over when I see who is in the driver's seat. "You've been waiting for this one for a month, haven't you?" Katniss sighs, handing me her driver's license, registration and insurance card.
Something stirs in me. Normally, I can treat traffic stops like nothing. Watch for wandering hands and any sudden movements, ignore the yelling, write the ticket and go about my life. Now I feel disappointed that Katniss would drive recklessly, almost betrayed that she'd be so indifferent towards her own safety. I know I shouldn't be surprised; this is the same woman who will run into a burning building no questions asked.
"Officer Mellark?" she asks.
I blink away my disappointment. "Sorry, do you know how fast you were going?"
Katniss sighs, "Fast enough that you had to pull me over. But I'm late for my hazmat ops test, or hazmat tech, which starts at seven fifteen in Doylestown."
"Sounds painful. I'll be quick," I reply, barely clearing her bumper before hearing her forehead thump against the steering wheel.
"Good thing the dashboard camera was never switched on," Finnick sighs. "Just run her shit, she'll be probably be clear and you can let her go."
It's unprofessional, but I do just that. The woman's never even had a five over in her life.
Instead of writing a ticket, I pull out my memo pad.
Katniss,
I doubt you want to hear this, but I can't get you out of my mind. I need to explain what happened last month just so we can part on good terms. I know I don't deserve it considering how I left you, but you have to believe that I had a good reason for doing it. On the back is my address and phone number. Drop in any time or call/text.
I sign my name and head back to Katniss' car. "Here, good luck on your test, Miss Everdeen. Drive safe," I say, handing over the note before hurrying back to the cruiser. "Just drive," I tell Finnick, "I need a fucking coffee."
It takes another three days before I hear back from Katniss. By then, it's already feeling like fall and I know I'm going to have to lock my Harley up for the winter soon.
She calls on my day off, just after eleven. "Hi, is this Peeta?" she asks cautiously.
I nod even though she can't see me. "Yeah, how are you doing today, Katniss?"
"Fine, fine. We had another strange call today. I'm still trying to cool off," she laughs nervously. Besides the destruction of property, the major risk with going into accelerated fires is that they burn hot, like insanely hot, dangerously so.
The accelerant used seems to be a lethal mix of gasoline and occasionally acetone. It burns hot, spreads quickly and has already claimed three lives and injured ten. "Do you want to come over? It might be easier to talk face to face."
Katniss hesitates, "Sure. I'm at the station right now, but I get off at three."
"Want me to pick you up there? As long as you don't plan on swinging an axe at me..."
Katniss chuckles, "No, I don't… Gale, Thom, and Bristel might though."
"I'll watch my back. See you at three."
"Yeah, drive safe," she teases before hanging up. I can't tell whether it's a joke or if she honestly cares about my safety.
When my phone locks after the call, I set it down on the kitchen counter and look around at my messy house.
Clean uniforms cover the beat up leather sofa, but they're under a huge pile of my underwear and undershirts, which is under an even larger pile of street clothes. I throw my work belt on the counter, as it's the first step to cleaning this place up. I've given up on being responsible enough to do dishes three years ago, only bringing out actual plates the few times I have guests over. I don't have a lot of things, just a lot of clothes and a lot of empty hangers. Once my closet is full again, the room looks almost inviting, in that dated 90's living room sort of way.
Two thirty comes slowly; right before I leave to pick up Katniss, I light a candle so my house will stop smelling like stale cigarette smoke and the lingering, musky smell of my sloppiness.
There's an unmarked cop car waiting for me when I hit the street and light up. "Good afternoon…" I greet when the driver gets out.
"Detective, technically. I'm Detective Abernathy. I wanted to ask you a few questions. You were one of the officers on scene for several of the suspicious fires in August and now September."
I cross my arms over my chest. "And am I a suspect, detective?"
He shrugs, "Nah. I just needed to drop this off. It's a few reports and several crime scene pictures. Just look at it and get back to me in the morning about any repeat witnesses you can think of." He pulls a large manila folder out of his coat. "I look forward to working with you, boy."
"Wait… What?" I ask, holding the file.
"Lieutenant Thread gave you and your talkative partner to me for the duration of this case. Congrats on your promotion. I take my coffee black with one Splenda."
"Motherfucker…" I sigh, watching him drive off.
I check my watch one last time after dumping the file inside the house and head to Katniss' fire station.
The first person I meet there is a loud woman with cropped black hair, standing on the top of one of the fire engines. "I'm queen of the mountain, bitches! Get me a ladder truck. I'll get on top of the bangor ladder and I'll be the queen of fucking Philly!" Her bright eyes find me, "Katniss! That blondie you threatened with the pike pole is here!"
"Bris, get the fuck down. Come with me, blondie, before Hawthorne gets you with an axe…" another woman tells me, leading me up a flight of stairs where there's one office and a row of pictures of chiefs that have sat in that office. The second to last one is Chief Patrick Everdeen, who left his position close to three years ago. "I'm Johanna, by the way; or Josie, or Jo."
"Nice to meet you. Is that Katniss' father?" I ask, pointing up at the picture.
Johanna frowns. "Yeah, he's no longer with us… It was a hard time for the crew…"
"Shut up, Jo. Stop talking about my Daddy like he's dead. He just moved to Florida with my Mom when her arthritis got bad. They visited for the fourth; you were there, I was there," Katniss says, coming down a spiral staircase in a white t-shirt, jeans and knee high boots. Her right wrist is wrapped tightly in white gauze and medical tape.
"But he took Thursday night poker and your mom's butter cake with him!"
Katniss rolls her eyes. "I'll bring you Stocks pound cake some day if you learn to actually put safeties on your bowlines."
Johanna waves at her dismissively, "Whatever, go do your walk of shame with your cute little cop and his nice ass and-"
Katniss shrinks back a little and Johanna notices it, taking pity on the smaller girl. "I'm going to go downstairs…" she says calmly, "Have a cigarette."
We know Katniss is gone when we can barely hear the click of her heels and Johanna sighs. "I don't know what she's ashamed of. No harm in dating," she says, patting my shoulder twice. "Now listen, blue canary… is it okay if I call you that?" she asks.
Blue Canary is derived from canary in a coal mine, meaning that cops will run into hazardous situations like gas leaks and either die or go unconscious. "Not really…" I tell her.
"Well, that sucks. But listen, canary, you hurt her and I'll turn you into a eunuch with a fire axe. Ya get me?" she tells me while her strong fingers dig into my shoulder.
"I get you…" I answer, but she squeezes harder. "I said I get you. Jesus fuck," I jerk away and head after Katniss, who is rocking back and forth on her heels with a Camel between her pale lips.
"Ready?" I ask her as she tucks her cell phone into her front pocket. She doesn't say anything but hands me her purple Bic.
"Join me for a smoke, and sorry about Johanna. She's kind of…"
"Infuriatingly blunt, but protective of you?"
"Yeah…" Katniss whispers before taking a step closer to me and linking her free hand with mine.
On the way back to my place she rides just as close as before, her small hands firmly on my stomach. As we approach Mayfair, my jeans get a little tight in the crotch but I don't think she notices. By the time I pull into the alley behind my house to put the bike in the garage and retire her for a few months, my awkward erection is gone. But I still can't shake the desire to throw her down on the cool cement floor and peel her out of those jeans so I can fuck her until neither of us can walk straight.
Finnick is right, she has an amazing ass which is only improved upon by her muscular legs. "Jeez, and I thought you were done eye banging me in August," she teases after catching me. Here I think she's angry, but as she hands me her helmet, she's smiling.
"Sorry, it's those heels, sweetheart," I tell her honestly. "It turns a ten into a fifteen."
"Thanks. The guy I went out with last night didn't think so…" she sighs before taking my hand again and leaning into me.
What exactly does she think she's here for? I wonder before pulling my hand away, "Whoa, if you're seeing someone, I don't want to-"
"Going on dates isn't the same as seeing someone. He was a jerk. It's what I do, go on dates thinking I can trust someone enough to let them in… then swerve, get scared and never call them again."
"Oh…" Now I feel even more like a fuckhead about leaving her in Center City, but I did get a call back, kind of. "So I guess I feel pretty good that here you are with me for a second time," I tell her as I lead her into the house.
"If that's how you want to look at it," she says, smiling. The very first thing she notices is the candle burning on the counter. "This place is nice, so let's leave a candle unattended…" She rolls her eyes in my direction. "God, you blue canaries can be really dumb sometimes."
"And of course, a whacker will think of nothing but 'what in this room will cause a fire?'"
She laughs and makes herself comfortable at the kitchen table, not venturing too far into the house. We make small talk for a while with Divorce Court playing in the background, just for some white noise and to help facilitate conversation if we both fall flat. For the most part though, Katniss sits at the kitchen table, flipping through the file Abernathy left for me.
"Want a beer?" I ask after she drains her water.
Katniss shakes her head no, "I can't drink," I notice that she says can't, not don't. "Don't worry, I'm not an alcoholic. Have a beer if you want."
"Why can't you drink, if you don't mind me asking?"
Katniss sighs while I grab her water glass and refill it. "You know how sometimes firefighters come out of buildings looking like they fell in a pricker bush?" she asks.
I snort, "I didn't know that a city girl knew what those were."
"Shut up. Well, the used-up sharps… the reused sharps… they usually don't go through bunker gear unless you hit them just right or fall on 'em hard, but things happen. I know guys with HIV, shit, I've never heard of…"
"What did you get?"
"Hepatitis-C? I got tested really early and they're kind of nuking it, the side-effects of treatment even went away."
No one ever really pays attention to the risk first responders live with. In fact, I've never even thought that getting diseases from needles was such an every day problem for these guys. "That's good, I guess?" I ask as I pop the cap off a Yuengling.
"Yeah… so… I'm not going to beat around the bush. Please explain to me why you-"
"Ended our date so suddenly?" I ask, returning to the kitchen table and handing Katniss her water.
She reaches out and clutches it in both hands. "Yeah…" she tells me with her shoulders slumped.
"My partner's girlfriend was hit by a drunk driver and he was in bad shape. I couldn't even think, I just knew at the time I had to protect my partner."
Katniss looks up, "Oh my god, I'm such an asshole. I was so pissed at you and…" She buries her face in her hands, her tan cheeks growing bright and rosy. "I'm such an ass." I nod, but can only notice how cute she is when she blushes.
I reach across the table and rub up and down her arm. "You didn't know. I was going to text you or call you, but I was so embarrassed that I just bolted. Then my partner told me to grow a set, but…"
"I tried to assault you with a pike pole… how is she?"
"She's probably going to have a bit of a limp for the rest of her life and she's down a spleen, but she's alive. She's getting out of the hospital next Tuesday, we hope."
She brings her hands down from her face which I immediately take. Upon closer inspection, I notice numerous little pink scars dotting her fingers and wrists. "Was this from a fire?" I ask, letting my fingers roam up her wrists, the tips of my fingers barely grazing the gauze protecting her wrist. I fear the answer but my heart needs to know.
"Two weeks ago, in one of the arson fires. My glove got stuck and a bit of my wrist was exposed. It was barely second degree," she says, waving it off.
Just knowing she was hurt makes my heart ache. "I'm sorry…"
Katniss closes her hands around my wrists so we're linked together. "Don't be, it's an occupational hazard. Have you ever been shot at?" I nod in response, not wanting to relive that day. "See, you don't like seeing my burn, I don't like even thinking about someone shooting at you," she tells me, looking up through her lashes. "You're kind of cute… it would be a shame if…"
I don't know what force compels me to do so, but I get up from my seat, still holding onto her. She meets me half way, our lips making contact as we lean over the table.
It's simple and sweet, a promise between two protectors. We may not be able to keep each other out of danger, but we'll hold the other in our hearts.
Katniss pulls away and there's that blush again. She follows my hand with her eyes as I tuck some of her hair behind her ear.
We end up watching a movie, which to Katniss is code for 'don't talk during the fucking movie, I like this scene.' She does, however, lie down on the couch with me and allow my hand to sneak under her shirt to feel her smooth skin.
"Stop," she giggles as my fingers brush along her side, causing her to squirm a little.
"I'm sorry, I've never seen a woman so into The Life of Brian."
Katniss squirms again because I hit that sensitive spot on her side, "He's not the Messiah! He's a very naughty boy!" she tells me before rolling to face me now that the movie is over.
"Want to get something to eat? Or I could cook?"
"You can cook?" she asks while moving my arm to use it as a pillow.
I kiss her forehead. "Yes, I can cook, but I haven't been grocery shopping in like a week. Come on, get your good heels back on," I tell her, reaching behind and spanking her.
